4
"Sit still!" scolds Silena, whom Percy has grown to like immensely in the two meetings they've had so far. She's got no time for anyone's nonsense except her own, which to judge by the whirlwind summary of her marriage that he's just received, she particularly enjoys indulging in when she has a captive audience in the make-up chair. "Just because you look great in real life doesn't mean you'll come out that way under all the lights and cameras if you don't let me do my job."
"Is she always this bossy?" he asks Annabeth, who's standing to the side with a smirk a mile wide on her face, while Silena assaults his chin with her brush.
"Always," his wife confirms.
"And you'd be lost without me," says Silena.
"Also true," says Annabeth, and her fond smile is full of a history between the two of them that Percy knows he wouldn't be able to totally understand even if it was explained to him.
"To be totally fair to you," Silena confides to Percy, "one or two lapses aside, you are much better at sitting still when you're told to than your better half is."
"Uh… thank you?" he says.
"And now you're ready!" she announces with a flourish. "Go get 'em, tigers," she orders, waving them up and through the door.
"Are you ready?" asks Annabeth, as they head out into the corridor.
"Eh," he says, uncomfortable in Silena's choice of shirt and blazer that are stiff and uncomfortable on his shoulders ('it's about how you look, not how you feel'), and more uncomfortable still at the prospect of journalists about to ask him about himself, about his life, just through the doors ahead.
"It's easy," she tells him. "You've got nothing to worry about. You just have to stay calm, stay friendly, be your usual charming self, and try to give them the most boring answers possible."
"Am I usually charming?" he asks, slightly surprised that he's managed to give her that impression considering that they longest amount of time they've spent together so far was in the car ride back to his apartment the night of the concert. "How did I manage to trick you into thinking that?"
She raises her eyebrows. "Don't let it go to your head, now, but yes, I think you're likeable enough not to be eaten alive out there."
"This is easy for you," he realises, "you do this all the time."
"And that means I can tell you as an expert that if you keep your head, it can't go too badly wrong."
He almost asks her whether her definition of 'too bad' involves death and/or the end of the world, but she's already pushing the doors open, and he follows her into a buzz of voices and an explosion of camera flashes.
They find their way to a table on a small dais, a cluster of microphones in front of each of them like bouquets of flowers, Annabeth gives a small spiel about living in the moment and liking Percy and being excited for the press and her fans to get to know him the way that she's getting to know him.
Then, the first question comes from a middle aged guy with a beer-belly who looks like he'd rather be literally anywhere else in the world. "Are we supposed to believe that this is some kind of love at first sight deal, then?"
Percy can't make out his name tag, though he's pretty sure it begins with a D. Mr D, he decides he'll call the guy.
"Like I said before," says Annabeth, "for me, this is about trying something new. It's about jumping into the pool without dipping your toes in first. Maybe that's rash and reckless and ridiculous, but as far as I see it, that's my choice to make. Percy and I are going to try to make this work, but if it doesn't, then who's really lost anything? I'd already paid for the wedding."
That raises a chuckle from most of the room, but Mr D points his pen in Percy's direction. "And how do you feel about it?"
Percy leans into the microphones – Grover was very clear that he should get closer to them than is totally comfortable – and pauses as dramatically as he can before he speaks. "What she said," he says, and cracks a relieved smile at the ripple of chuckles that these are his first words to them. "I think I'd have been crazy if I'd said no when one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen asked me to marry her, and from then on, it's one step at a time. We're getting to know each other without any expectations. If it goes somewhere, that's great; if it doesn't… then it doesn't."
"You're not afraid that it'll fail like your previous marriage did?"
Percy blinks. Grover had warned him that the press would likely know about the entire history of his love-life, but he hadn't really expected them to actually know about him and Calypso. "That's a possibility," he says, as diplomatically as he can. "But I'm not afraid of it, no."
"You don't think that your romantic history makes you a risky prospect as a partner?"
Percy takes a deep breath, unsure of how to deal with the outright dislike for him that Mr D seems to have. Before he spends too long opening and closing his mouth like a fish, though, Annabeth comes to his rescue.
"There's risk in anything you do, Dionysus," says Annabeth. "You should know that from your time as the Times' wine correspondent." There's a laugh at that which draws a heavy scowl from the journalist, and Percy figures that his wife probably just landed an insult of her own. "But we're ripping up the rulebook, here. It's not about what happened before – it's not even about what happened next. It's about what's happening now. My first wedding didn't work out exactly how I'd imagined –" there's another nervous laugh at that. She's good at this, thinks Percy. "but if you'll forgive the cliché, every cloud…" She tails off to look at Percy, who realises too late to hide it that he's watching her with a goofy smile on his face. "Sometimes you've got to make your own silver lining," she tells the room. "Even if it feels a little crazy."
"What made you pick Percy out of the crowd, Annabeth?" asks a woman wearing a hot pink pantsuit that Percy guesses must have become the height of fashion in the couple of years since he spent any length of time in the city.
"You mean aside from the sign that said 'marry me' on it?" his wife asks. "He was the best looking guy I could see in the room, and… he looked nice. He looked kind."
An elderly man with a gleeful glint in his eye speaks next. "Mr Jackson, what were you thinking when Miss Chase called you onstage?"
Percy leans in to the microphone before realising he's got no real memory of what he was feeling in the moments before he got married except generally feeling sorry for Annabeth, which he wasn't sure was the right thing to say. "You know, it was all kind of a blur," he says. "Probably something along the lines of 'what's going on?'"
"Then, once you were married?"
"Er…" he hesitates again, before deciding it's probably safe to say the overriding thought he'd had while still onstage with her. "I was thinking about what a good kisser she was."
There's a gentle ooh from the assembled journalists. "Is the feeling mutual?" someone calls from the back of the room, though Percy can't see exactly who.
There's a crazy glint in Annabeth's eye as she holds up a hand to call for a moment's silence, and motions Percy to lean over to her with her other. She tilts her head into his, and their lips meet gently. She smells of lemon and tastes of strawberry, and then she's pulling away and Percy's head is spinning like he's been launched off a diving board from ten metres up. He distantly hears the intake of breath from the assembled journalists. It sounds like it comes from a long long way away.
"Yeah," says Annabeth, returning to her microphones. "He'll do."
The next questions are much more low-key: Percy gets to talk a little about squid conservation, and Annabeth informs the room that the brief North American tour she'd planned for the end of the year will still go ahead. Pens scratch, heads nod respectfully, and in another five minutes, it's all over.
When they get backstage again, Grover's beside himself – Percy initially can't tell if he's worried that they've blundered or just pleased that they survived, or more likely knowing Grover, both feelings in spades, but either way he's so carried away with excitement that he hugs them both before saying a word.
"That was good," he says. "That was good, right? Did you think it was good, Annabeth? I thought it was good!"
"I thought it was good," offers Annabeth, trying to hide her laughter.
"They'll be going nuts over the two of you, to be fair! It's going to completely kill National Enquirer's theory that you're the Zodiac killer, Percy."
"I'm sorry?" asks Percy, but Annabeth's already agreeing with her manager.
"You did great," she tells him. "Everyone knows Dionysus is… well, you saw – he hates his job and everyone it makes him associate with – but you dealt with him really well. I think the rest of them liked you."
"Thanks," he says, "Zodiac killer, Grover?"
Grover waves his hands like it's no big deal. "It's no big deal," he says. "And anyway, you killed it stone-dead! They'll start calling you puncture-proof Percy or something if you keep dealing with the press that well, like you're as invincible as Achilles but with the media instead of swords. I tell you what, Kanye's manager is going to be so jealous of me…"
"Grover, focus," says Annabeth. "Go get a glass of water."
"Right, yeah, good idea, good idea. You both did great. I mean, the kiss was a little over-the-top, maybe?" He looks at them expectantly, and Percy can't decide whether to agree that kissing to make a point to the press is a little bit ridiculous, or to point out that she kissed him and he's mostly been quite good about not kissing his beautiful famous wife a whole lot more than he has been and anyway Grover should try resisting her charms sometime.
"Water," orders Annabeth, and Grover finally goes, shaking his head as he does.
She looks at Percy then, laughter dancing in her eyes. "So," she says. It's a statement.
"So," he answers.
"As good a kisser as you remember?"
He feels himself blushing. Somehow, here, with just the two of them, it's a more personal question than anything the journalists in the other room had wanted to know. "I think so," he says.
"You think? Do you need a bigger sample size to determine exactly where my kisses rank in your long and storied romantic history?"
"Sorry, I didn't mean to – yes, it was really good. You kissed great. And it's not like I have a super complicated love-life, I just-"
"Percy, I don't really care if you've been married ten times before."
"Right," he says, realising belatedly that it's all for the cameras: here, backstage, with just the two of them, there's nothing between them but a business contract. "Sorry, I didn't mean to assume-"
"No, no, I should be sorry," she interrupts him again, like she the conversation is shifting under her faster than she can keep track of. "It wasn't fair of me to drag you into a kiss like that without asking – I mean, since we…" She tails off, but they're saved by Grover returning with his water.
"I think that was good," he tells them again. "I think it went well."
"If you say it enough times, does it become true?" asks Percy.
"Would you rather they all agreed that you're the Zodiac Killer?" Annabeth asks him.
"I wasn't even born when that was a thing! They can't bring charges based on that, right?"
"Don't worry," says Annabeth, "I have a good lawyer, so you'll be fine as long as you burn the evidence ASAP."
She's laughing at him, but he finds that he doesn't mind all that much.
A day and a half after marrying Annabeth, Percy is beginning to think that no donation towards the protection of marine wildlife, nor the opportunity to hang out with the funny and attractive woman that is his wife, is worth the paperwork involved in getting married to a pop star.
He's called in 'sick' to work for two days in a row (is it still calling in sick when everyone knows it's to retrospectively legalise his wedding?) and even now, towards the end of the second day, he's still got mountains of documents to affix his signature to. This is partly because his mum always impressed on him the importance of knowing what he's signing, so he's trying to read – or at least, skim – and more or less understand everything that's been put in front of him. As well as that, though, he's been trying to wrap his head around this strange new reality where he's sort-of famous. He's been reading profiles of himself and Annabeth in OK! and Star magazines, checking if anyone else thinks he's a historic serial killer, and trying to learn a bit more about his wife, though the bulk of what he's actually learned is that OK! likes their chances of staying married, but Star not so much. He's beginning to get the feeling that Annabeth is so famous that it's assumed that everyone already knows everything there is to know about her.
On the plus side, Grover's hope that yesterday's news conference went well seems to have come true. HE'LL DO is the headline most of the papers have gone with for their gossip columns, apart from Dionysus' article in the NY Post, which is titled HE'LL DOOFUS. Percy can live with that, especially since the article's substance seems to be about how Dionysus doesn't like Percy much, but he could have been worse. And in every single paper and magazine, there are pictures of the kiss everywhere.
Percy hasn't quite figured out how he feels about that, yet.
"Sorry," says Grover, depositing another sheaf of paper on the table. "People usually have lawyers to do this for them."
"By people, do you mean celebrities?" asks Percy.
"I guess I do," says Grover. He hesitates, drumming his fingers on the desk for a minute, clearly debating internally whether or not to say what's on his mind. Percy's pretty sure that once his friend has reached this stage, the thing on his mind always finds its way to his mouth, so he just waits until Grover speaks again. "Do you think that I've lost touch with reality?"
That's not what Percy had expected. "No, I-"
"I wonder if I did something terrible in a past life to deserve this," his old friend says, fixing him with a worried look. "I never wanted to manage musicians. I was going to join Greenpeace and fight Big Oil, but I met Luke at college and he asked if I'd help out this singer-songwriter he thought had a lot of potential, and that was Annabeth, and now here I am. Or is it something I did in this life? Is it because I didn't keep in touch with you after you were expelled? You know, I've felt guilty over that for years, I should've-"
"G-man, Grover, I love you, breathe, just breathe," says Percy, not equipped to deal with the emotional avalanche of what seems like a decade's worth of stress when he's been stuck inside reading legalese all day. "We were twelve, neither of us were allowed cell-phones, and I was on the other side of New York," points out Percy. "You couldn't have done more than you did."
"I was thirteen because I had to repeat second grade."
"…I forgot that. But the point still stands, right?"
Grover swallows. "I guess so."
"You really don't like managing musicians?"
"I'd do it for Annabeth for free, because she's my friend," says Grover. "I don't mind it. I like it! But I have about twenty other clients where I barely understand what their deal is. Do you know Chrysaor?"
"No," Percy shakes his head.
"Do you know what pirate metal is?"
"...No…"
Grover points at him. "You are now as well equipped to be their manager as I am. Except I am their manager."
"Okay, so, at some point soon you tell them you're thinking of cutting back on the managing and maybe they should look for someone new, or you could introduce them to someone who you think would be better for them, right?"
Grover grimaces. "The lead singer's kind of scary. But you're right, I should… grasp the nettle. Rip off the band-aid."
"Rip the band-aid off from the band," agrees Percy. "If it makes you happier in the long-term, it's the right thing to do."
Grover shakes his head. "This isn't relevant. What would make me really happy right now is if you'd just sign all this and get it over with. You've done all the bits that actually need reading, this stuff is just about how you don't get all her money when – I mean, if you divorce."
"I know, I trust you," says Percy, choosing to ignore his old friend's dilemma over how secure his marriage was – of course, Percy himself has the same problem – "I just feel like I oughtta read it. And when I finish I have to fight my way home through about fifty thousand reporters on my front doorstep."
"I'm sorry," says Grover, "when Annabeth said we wouldn't encroach on your life any more than for public appearances she was telling the truth, it's just-"
"I know, you can't make the same guarantee for anyone else. I'll tell you what, getting Estelle back to Mom's yesterday was not fun."
"We might need to look into getting you some security even when you're not with her."
"I'm sorry?"
"To protect you from jealous fans, or kidnappers."
"Grover, you're talking in celebrity-speak again. Who'd want to kidnap me?"
"You're married to someone very rich and very famous. It's not inconceivable that someone would take you hostage and try to make ransom demands on you."
Percy blinks, taking that in. "Okay. And jealous fans?"
Grover raises an eyebrow. "You know what a fan is? You know what jealousy is?"
Percy snorts. Of all the craziness to come out of his marriage, Grover being back in his life is certainly a major plus. The other man might not be as outspoken as Percy, but deep down he's got hidden reserves of exactly the same brand of sarcastic humour. "It's just not something I ever considered having to worry about," admits Percy.
Grover shrugs. "It won't be, most of the time. But sometimes they get too attached, and don't like their favourite singer to be with someone they don't approve of, or just to be with someone who isn't them."
"Or to look like they're with someone who isn't them."
Grover lets out a sound that's amusingly similar to a goat's bleat. Maybe it's a little mean of Percy to take such pleasure in his friend's uncertainty about the wedding, but to be fair, it's an expression of his own discomfort at the whole arrangement. He still doesn't really know if he's going to see Annabeth at all socially, or if their time together will be completely limited to public appearances.
"Percy, I know it's really none of my business," says Grover, "but I need to know something about your relationship with Annabeth."
"Grover, you're literally running my relationship with Annabeth. Our relationship is, like, entirely your business at the moment, as far as I can tell."
He grimaces. "I just – you're both my friends, okay? And I'm trying to look out for you with the press and your privacy and all of that, but I'm also trying to look out for Annabeth, and by marrying you she's made herself really vulnerable, and I'm worried about her. The world of pop music turns really quickly, and if the press ends up deciding that her marrying you was a bigger mistake than Luke made by cheating-"
"That's insane," objects Percy, but Grover cuts him off.
"It's insane and it's how the world works," he says firmly. "And we just have to make the best of it that we can. If they take against her then it jeopardises everything she's been working for these last few years, okay?"
Percy looks up into his friend's slightly watery, slightly desperate eyes, and remembers another reason why he was friends with Grover all those years ago, beyond the humour and the fact that when you're roommates at a rundown boarding school you get along or you die. There's a deep-seated integrity to him, an unshakeable, slightly naive belief in right and wrong, and despite the impression of spinelessness people often get of him because he hates conflict, there's an inner steel too, a determination that he will do the right thing – even if he'll often try to do it in secret to avoid attracting attention. "Okay," Percy says. "I think I get it."
"And because she's vulnerable to the media, she's also made herself vulnerable to you."
The idea that Annabeth is vulnerable to Percy of all people is so absurd he wants to laugh. On the one hand, rich, famous Annabeth Chase, totally at ease with the madness of the media circus, who never goes anywhere without an entourage of about ten people; on the other hand, Percy Jackson, who only got a smartphone a year ago, who doesn't read the news, and who was unknown to the world at large until she picked him out of a crowd. He's a nobody, and she's the definition of Somebody with a capital S. "Really?" he asks Grover.
"Because you're married to her, you're a part of her public image now, and if they take against you, they take against her too, alright? Yesterday went great. It was fantastic! It went so so well I couldn't believe it. But you need to do that well… regularly."
Suddenly, this seems like a lot more responsibility than Percy signed up for – he hadn't even considered that his showing at the press conference yesterday would reflect on anyone other than himself – but Grover isn't finished.
"She's still hurting over Luke, and I know that there's not really anything between the two of you, and she married you because she doesn't expect this to last, but… it's a whole mess," he sighs.
"You're telling me," agrees Percy.
"Do you like her, at least?"
"Sure," says Percy, shrugging.
"I mean platonically," Grover amends. "Do you like her as a person?"
"I guess. As much as you can like someone you've known for about two days."
"That's good!" says Grover, a little too fast. "That's a great start, then. So it'll be alright for the two of you to work together for a while. She needs good friends around her. And… I hate to ask it, but do you like her… romantically?"
He doesn't have an easy answer. She's funny and he likes the confident way she carries herself and he's gone on the public record saying how beautiful she is, but he's painfully aware of how little he knows about Annabeth. She's a super-cool stranger to him, more than anything else right now. Albeit a super-cool stranger who happens to kiss him in public occasionally. "I guess I'm still figuring that out," he admits.
"Okay, okay," says Grover. "That's fine. That's fine. That's totally, totally fine, y'know? The thing is… it's just…" he tails off uncertainly.
"What?" asks Percy.
"It's alright for the two of you to play it up for the cameras and the media and everything," his friend says hastily, but Percy's still lost.
"I don't follow," he says slowly.
"I need you not to fall in love with her, Percy. And more importantly, I really need you not to let her fall in love with you," Grover says wretchedly, avoiding eye contact. "I don't know how she'd cope if it didn't work out."
Reviews all super welcome unless they're pointing out that I forgot to update last week in which case no thank you sir not for me not on this fic.
